


Lie

by TopHat



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopHat/pseuds/TopHat





	Lie

Every second that went by, Amy was longer into her lunch break and closer to the Q&A panel. The panel where she'd have to smile, to lie, to pretend like everything was fine. Every second brought her closer to the end of the convention, the end of the request for a piece of New Wave merch signed by the greatest healer in the world. She had finished her sandwich within five minutes, Vicky had left shortly after that. Now Amy was stuck, caught by the clock, somewhere between dozing and hypnotized, simply enjoying the lull.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing!” Amy replied, spine shooting straight as she sat up. “Nothing,” she repeated, more quietly. “Just thinking.”

“That sounds boring,” Victoria stated frankly, sitting down into the chair next to Amy. “Mind if I think with you?”

“Why would you want to do something boring?” Amy muttered, slowly slumping deeper into her seat.

Vicky shrugged. “One girl’s trash is another girl’s treasure. Besides.” She nudged Amy’s arm, sending a shiver through the other girl. “I know you don’t like the meet and greet stuff. I wanted to check up on you.”

“Thanks,” Amy said quietly. A comfortable silence stretched out between them.

“How do you do it?” Amy asked, staring at the table.

“Hmm?” Victoria look to the side, the picture of innocent confusion.

“You like being a cape. I can kind of get that.” Amy began to trace lines between the flakes of foil in the table, creating aimless constellations. “You get to fly, to beat up the bad guys, to live out the dream of being Alexandria. But you also like this part. Talking to people, answering questions, all the publicity stuff Carol drags us along to in the name of ‘spreading the message’.” Amy’s hand paused. “You’re like a star, getting everyone caught up in your orbit, and you don’t even notice it.”

Another silence stretched out, this one less amiable.

“One reason I’m good at this stuff is because I practice,” Victoria said the words carefully, as if each one was a glass matchstick that needed to be stacked just so. “I read everything I can get my hands on, spend hours perfecting the flashy moves, write pages of notes on each and every aspect of capeing.” Each argument stacked upon the other, forming a tower, an explanation, an excuse.

“The other reason is because yeah, I like it.” Vicky leaned back, bringing one knee up to her chest and wrapping her arms around it. “The people I love need someone to keep them up to date, and when they come back safe after a mission I know it’s partially because of me. Being a cape also helps,” Victoria added, a smile entering her voice. “It’s kind of hard to hate yourself.”

“Not that hard,” Amy said, fingers tensing. “People hate themselves all the time.”

“And it’s considered a problem,” Victoria replied evenly. “They have a whole field of science dedicated to helping people who hate themselves, and they’re getting better at helping them all the time.” She paused for a moment. “Ames, is there anything you want to talk about?”

Amy shook her head and withdrew her hand to her robe.

Victoria looked at her sister.

Then she slung an arm around Amy and pulled.

“Vicky!” Amy squeaked, balance failing her as she fell out of her chair and into Victoria’s lap, limbs askew. A short bit of rearranging later and she seated comfortably on top of Victoria’s thighs, awkwardly leaning into her sister’s chest for balance.

“Nope,” Victoria said. “Something’s on your mind. You don’t have to tell me, but it’s eating at you and I want to know.”

“Vickyyy,” Amy whined, shoving her hands in deeper into her costume, trapped by Victoria’s hug, blood rushing to her face. “Please.”

“Tough,” Victoria replied, nuzzling down into Amy’s hair. “Now out with it.” Her nose pressed against Amy’s scalp, flooding her brain with information, communicating the motion of trillions of cells, all moving in perfect concert, dying and being reborn, dying faster than they could reproduce, and certainly not Vicky.

Amy froze, muscles seizing up at the sudden strangeness. The imposter pulled its head up slowly, clicking its fake tongue.

“Damn, you figured it out,” the imposter said, disappointed.

“Who the fuck are you?” Amy whispered.

The door behind Amy and the imposter clicked open. “Ames, I’m back with friends and cake!” Slowly, Amy turned around.

Victoria stood there, smiling like the sun itself, armed with a cardboard box and a water bottle. Behind her stood two men, one an albino dressed in deep purple velvet, the other a bare-chested, muscular individual with a goat mask. The latter waved. “Hi, me.”

“Hi, me,” the imposter said, sending Amy’s heart into her stomach. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty well, pretty well,” the goat-headed man replied, nodding peaceably and never dropping his smile. He turned to Amy, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I see you forgot to tell this little girl that we were coming.”

“How could I? She’s just so cute!” the imposter moaned, squeezing the hug a little tighter. Amy could sense the blood moving under her own skin, knew that a biological reaction was taking place, but inside her head all she could feel was cold. “She just makes you want to hug her!”

“Eww, that’s my sister you’re glomping,” the real Victoria said, making a face as she moved to sit across from Amy, who couldn’t move with all the ice in her limbs. “With my body and a twenty-something year-old mind. You’re being weird, Satyr.”

“Maybe I like it weird,” the goat man replied, taking a seat at the table and making eye contact with Amy. “I know weirdness pretty well, as could a lot of people, given half the chance.”

“My full name is Satyrical, by the way,” the imposter said. “I can make clones that look like other people, and I was supposed to give you the heads up that Vicky would be arriving late. That hasn’t happened yet.”

“She’s here, by the way,” the other Satyrical said, winking once and smiling wide. “And you seem to be enjoying the flirting well enough,” he added, drumming his fingers on the table, a tuneless rhythm of silent patterns.

Amy stared back and tried very, very hard to keep the mask on.

“He really needs to learn to double check ages though,” the purple cape chided, sitting down next to Satyrical. “Now stop coming onto the minor. We don’t need you to force us all into another workplace harassment seminar.”

Satyrical lifted his arms in surrender even as the imposter did the same, leaving Amy on its lap of her own free will. “What can I say? Taboos are interesting, and you never know what could come from sharing them. Good things, even.”

Amy stood, turned in place, and walked out the door.


End file.
